


The Bow That Is Stable

by FyrMaiden



Category: Glee
Genre: Body Dysphoria, M/M, Trans Character, ftm!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6418225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrMaiden/pseuds/FyrMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rachel tells Blaine that she is pregnant, Blaine is left with a longing that's been long dormant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bow That Is Stable

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: Blaine, Rachel, 'I did a pregnancy test'
> 
> Title taken from Kahlil Gibran's 'The Prophet', specifically [children](http://www-personal.umich.edu/~jrcole/gibran/prophet/prophet.htm#Children).

Rachel tells Blaine second, not counting Jesse and her dads. They’re meeting for their usual Saturday brunch, and she asks if maybe they can move their meeting thirty minutes earlier, so that it’s just the two of them. “Big news,” she says, and Blaine agrees that that’s fine. He can make it a little earlier.

“Kurt can’t,” he says. Kurt has a hair appointment, and probably won’t be able to make it at all.

“That’s fine,” Rachel says. “Jesse is working. It’ll be just you and me.”

They meet at their usual subway stop, Blaine leaning against a building, scrolling through twitter on his phone as he waits for Rachel. She arrives in a whirlwind of activity that still sees her hair lying perfectly against her coat. Blaine doesn’t understand how she does that. Nothing short of lacquer keeps his in place, and he’s learned to be fine with that.

They walk in silence to their usual brunch place, Rachel’s arm through his. It’s warm and companionable. Inside, she orders a Perrier with a twist of lime, and Blaine gets his usual coffee, and they take a seat outside on the terrace to enjoy the morning sunshine. Rachel wears shades again the glare, and Blaine moves his chair around until he can see, wishes he hadn’t left his own glasses on the kitchen work surface in his hurry.

“So,” he says, stirring cinnamon into his drink. Old habits die the hardest, and drip coffee and cinnamon are the last vestiges of Ohio clinging to the transposed New York chic of his new life here. He doesn’t really think it’s a problem, but it still makes him smile.

“So,” Rachel repeats, dips her chin and twists her shoulders coyly. Blaine smiles. He knows how she is when she has news she can’t keep in. “I did a pregnancy test,” she explodes finally. “It’s positive. I’m having a baby!”

Blaine feels his fingers go numb, feels the lurch of his insides at the news. He puts his spoon down and shifts forward in his seat to pull Rachel against him. He rubs her back and squeezes her gently, and holds her shoulders tight as he pulls away.

“That’s amazing,” he says, means it entirely sincerely. “When?”

Rachel stirs her water with her straw. “We’re due in September,” she says. Blaine nods, and then is spared from further conversation by the arrival of their friends.

He watches Rachel, though. The way she sits, the way she moves, and wonders what it’s like to bring another life into the world like that.

*

Once he gets home, Blaine lets Rachel’s news crash over him, remembers Jesse telling him that they’d been trying on and off since they got married. He’d been entirely sincere when he wished them all the luck in the world, and told Jesse that he thought they would make wonderful parents. He still means it. He’s just struck once again by how easy the decision seems to have been for them, and how hard that could be for him and Kurt.

To avoid the thoughts that crowd into his head, he strips himself naked and pads into the bathroom, spends twenty five long minutes standing underneath the shower, his head emptying of everything that’s not the sharp drum of water on his skin and his hair. When he’s got back out and dried himself off, he spends another five minutes standing in front of the mirror in his and Kurt’s bedroom, staring hard at the shape of his virtually non-existent breasts and the soft convex curve of his belly that he’s never quite managed to rid himself of. He touches his skin with gentle hands, and then plops himself down on their bed to stare vacantly at the ceiling instead.

He hasn’t, he knows, really thought about his body in these terms since - probably since high school biology and what passed for sex education for him at McKinley. He hasn’t really had to. He doesn’t entirely hate the body he has, for all that it’s not perfect. He’s been lucky enough to find the boy of his dreams, who has helped him love himself as often as he hasn’t. He does know, though, that there are reasons why he has put off hormone therapy for as long as he has. Reasons why he has dismissed the idea of surgery out of hand at the moment. He wants to be a father, and has done since he was small. Since before puberty and periods and the confusion over the things he does have and doesn’t have. Since before the bruises and the therapy and the words that describe his truth. He wants to be a father.

He’s still lying on their bed, staring up at the artex swirls of the ceiling, when Kurt gets home.

“Rachel is pregnant,” he says, in lieu of greeting. Kurt is quiet, and Blaine turns his face to look at him.

“I know,” Kurt replies, and comes to sit beside him, taking his hand in his own.

“Do you want children?” Blaine asks, and Kurt frowns and shrugs a shoulder.

“I never dreamed I’d get the boy,” he says, and it’s simple now. Almost easy. “I didn’t let myself think about the kids.”

Blaine exhales low and shaky and says, “I wanted them. With the right guy. I think I’ve got him.”

Kurt’s breath is shaky and damp, and they don’t say anything else.

But when they fuck, neither of them pretend to be unaware of everything it could still mean.

*

They talk. They talk a lot. Blaine talks with Rachel a lot, has a lot of questions he needs answer to. He knows that their situations are wildly different, that he’s staring down the barrel of a lot of misconception, a lot of judgement, but Rachel is the only person he knows who won’t judge him for the terror that settles low inside of him as the concept becomes clearer to him.

It’s Rachel’s frankness and honesty that makes her the first person he wants to tell when it finally happens. He tells his mom, and Kurt’s dad, and then he wants to tell Rachel. His hands are shaking so much he can barely type, though, when it comes to it. The words keeps running together, and he backspaces as often as he gets the letters in the right order.

“So we’re having a baby,” he tells her. “I think we’re going to need you.”

When he finally presses send, he grips the phone in his hand so hard that his knuckles turn white, so hard that Kurt has to massage his hands to get the phone back from him. Blaine’s eyes are wide and scared.

“You’re sure about this?” Kurt says, strokes his hand over Blaine’s hair, pulls him to his chest. Blaine buries his face in the crook of his neck and tries to remember how to breathe.

Kurt puts the phone on speaker when Rachel calls them back, her voice squeaking on the high notes, her excitement palpable. Blaine’s smile is watery, and Kurt holds him tight, kisses the shell of his ear.

“Love you,” he breathes, and they listen to Rachel ramble in silence.


End file.
